My First Week Back in Haiti...

Friday, January 29, 2010 8:00 p.m.

It was still dark when my eyes opened, awakened by the sound of beautiful Haitian voices unashamedly praising their Lord. I rolled over, too weary to get up yet, and tried to ignore the dampness of my sheets and pillow while listening to the enchanting melody. When light began to touch the sky I sat up in bed, my head almost touching the tarp hanging above us, and my eyes took in the sights that the blackness of the previous night had prevented me from viewing completely.

A large portion of our dusty yard was covered with blankets, sheets, carpets, and a few cots. Over a hundred people had slept here, and now they were rolling up their bedding and preparing to start their day. The air was heavy with dew, and cold – for Haiti – and everyone was moving slowly. I gathered my things, managed to procure the keys so I could find some toilet paper, and headed to the door-less outhouses. Roosters were crowing, turkeys and chickens pecking for food on the ground, dogs barking every time a stranger entered the gate, and Jhemson was leading our eight goats from their pen to the yard. I felt like I was in the middle of a movie.

That first day back was very eye-opening for me. I tried not to act as overwhelmed as I felt, but I was quickly coming to realize how truly sheltered my last three months at the beach had been. I was now seeing Haiti as it really was, because I was living as the rest of the people do. As always, it was the children that captured my heart. Precious little seven year old Melissa, whose mother left her to the care of Dee and Wickly (we don’t even know who her father is); Marc and Monique’s daughter Alexandra, the little princess; Ladiminka, the newest addition to the Dorces’ family, from the Dominican Republic; and Dadu, an adorable, quiet, little guy, whose pouty face is rarely without a smile. Little glimpses I’ve caught of the reality of their everyday lives have already broken my heart, and I am overflowing with a desire to show them every bit of attention and affection that I can while I am here.

My heart was beset by these emotions, and my mind was instantly overwhelmed as I observed how much work needed to be done. After a very long week of almost no connection with the outside world, finances dwindling, and people coming to them in droves for help, Dee and Wilckly were doing all they could just to house and feed those under their care. We need a bulldozer to prepare land for building temporary dwellings for all those needing shelter, we need food, food, and more food, we need storage containers in which to put all of the food, we need money, since the only places to receive transfers right now not only have lines a mile long, but really aren’t safe, either. The last week has been spent assessing these situations, making our plans of action, and waiting. Lots of waiting. This was not new to me, as I was first introduced to Haiti with its motto: “Hurry up and wait.” It has been no different this time, even in the wake of such a tremendous disaster.

It is actually very difficult to make these people out in the country realize how devastated their country is. Other than their fear of sleeping indoors, to them, life should go on as normal. And they try to make it so. But even though on the outside everything may seem to have gone back to the usual routine, everyone knows, deep down, that it hasn’t. Everyone walks around in a kind of daze, as if still unbelieving, in denial.

However, we are refusing to be discouraged. Even though every day seems to bring more closed doors and obstacles, there are always enough reasons to hope and keep smiling. God is going to use this horrible event for good, and we cling to that promise.

Hope in the midst of devestation...

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010 9:35p.m.

Yesterday we went to Port-au-Prince. We had to weave our way through back roads, around rubble, and over cracks and dips in the roads just to get to the airport. Though I had seen the devastation on TV, it was as though my eyes were new to the sights. House after house, building after building, walls, roads…collapsed, broken, lying in pieces. And it seemed so random: many a house untouched stood adjacent to another that had been flattened. I didn’t even want to think how many people had been inside – how many could still be under there.

We stopped at two tent camps to talk with people and take pictures. At one, the oh-so-intelligent Americans had decided to drive into the center of it, with an open truck full of food. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Of course, there were about twenty soldiers standing around the truck with guns, so they were managing to keep some kind of order. The other camp, which was farther from the airport, had received no aid that we knew of. Every single person in it had lost at least one child in the quake. They were hungry, thirsty, tired, and discouraged. We saw many of these refugee camps; the people had not seen one relief worker and were left to scrounge for their own food and water and construct their own makeshift tents with a few sticks, some ratty blankets and thin sheets.

It made me sick to my stomach when after we drove through these desolate areas we pulled into the airport and saw boxes piled ten feet high, fields and containers full of food, just sitting there. People come to help for a few days, stacking and unloading boxes of supplies, probably most never venture inside the city, then leave again, after giving themselves a little pat on the back, saying, “Look what I did for poor little Haiti.”

Perhaps I sound bitter…no, I am not bitter, only sorely disappointed. Everyone seems to think that this country, which was the poorest country in the western hemisphere even before the earthquake, and that had a broken and corrupt government already, will pick itself up within weeks. This is not only extremely optimistic, it is unrealistic. It will be years, decades, before Haiti will be on its feet, not again, but for the first time.

However, in the midst of this discouraging situation, there is hope. This is an opportunity for Haiti to change for the better, now that the rest of the world has finally noticed her. I only pray that the rest of the world will not fumble its chance to help.

Thursday, January 14th, 2010

Dear Friends,

I am doing my best to cover all the bases so that everyone who is receiving any of my updates will know what is going on. By now most of the world knows of the disaster that occurred in Haiti just a day and a half ago. I was scheduled to fly back down there the day after the earthquake hit. I am still here in the States, with a re-scheduled flight for Thursday, January 31st, and we are doing our best here to gather the much needed supplies and funds to bring back with us.

A note of praise: we finally heard from the Dorces and they are all safe. They were actually about two hours north of Carries (which is 50 mi. from Port-au-Prince) when it happened, and though they felt it, they, and everyone back at the beach in Carries were safe. They have had floods of wounded, homeless people coming to them for aid, and they are quickly running out of the small amount of supplies they did have. Please pray, and keep on praying, that they will have the energy, wisdom, and resources to help wherever they can. They are desperately in need of help and supplies, and right now the best we can do for them is to pray and gather these supplies. God is sovereign, and they are in His hands. He has placed them there for such a time as this, and He has put Crash and I here in the States to make it possible for supplies and funds to get to them. Praise Him for His all-perfect ways and timing!

I will not be updating my Blog as often as Facebook and e-mail, so if you would like to hear the more frequent updates, please send me an e-mail at smarie87@gmail.com.

Taking a break from Math....

Wednesday, December 9th, 2009 8:00p.m.

Palm tree branches doubled over, churning waves crashing upon the shore, water pouring over the fishing dock like small waterfalls, sailboats tossed and turned far off course, jackets and long sleeves donned, temperature dropped sufficiently.

Perhaps this seems to be referencing some tropical storm. No - it's just a description of a blustery day in Haiti. The wind suddenly picked up late this morning, and soon school papers were blowing all over the place, so Ashley and I decided it was time to take a break on the beach. We were instantly entranced...with spray from the frothy waves sprinkling our faces, the deafening wind and crashing waves filling our ears...this opportunity could not be passed up; Math would wait. Crash joined us, and we all jumped in, riding the gigantic waves, screaming and laughing as they pulled and pushed us, now throwing us onto the rocky shore, now threatening to bury us in the depths. When we tired of being tossed like dirty clothes in a washing machine, we sat on the edge of the dock and let the white caps splash up over our already drenched selves. A thorough and rewarding search for seashells along the shore was the perfect finale to our afternoon adventure.

Two hours later we traversed upstairs to bathe and relax, invigorated but exhausted. The wind had slowed a bit, but the pretty little wind chime hanging in my window was still tinkling delightfully. Sigh. Another wonderful day in Haiti.

Haitian Holiday Season...

Saturday, December 5th, 2009 7:00p.m.

This is the first time I have been away from home for Thanksgiving and for the holiday season in general. I wasn't sure what to expect, from myself and everyone else. Would I be homesick? How different would it be? What new traditions would I learn and participate in? Well, I needn't have worried.

Thanksgiving day dawned sunny and hot, just as every other day here does. I had given the girls the day off, even though it was an American holiday and all the Haitians wondered why in the world Ashley and Kelsey got to have a holiday from school on a random Thursday. I sure didn't mind the break! Crash and I read and relaxed all morning, and Dee and Grandma spent their time in the kitchen, concocting numerous surprise dishes...we were very curious.

By mid-afternoon (about the same time my family would have been sitting down to eat their dinner) the food was ready and we were astounded to find the table set with special plates and silverware at each place (turkey and Indian place settings made by Ashley and Kelsey for a school art project were a nice addition as well), and in the center of the table were bowls and bowls of mashed potatoes, noodles and gravy, creamed corn, homemade rolls, and broiled chicken (I liked it better than turkey). There were guests as well, just like my family always has: there's always at least one person present who is not a member of the family. The only difference was that these guests could not speak English. Ashley read her informative essay on the first Thanksgiving, we each told one thing we were thankful for - some in English, some in Creole - Wilckly prayed, and the feast began. I almost forgot I was in Haiti for a while; the food and the stmosphere were so American. And when we were satisfingly stuffed, Dee produced, not one, not two, but three pumpkin pies! I was overjoyed...what a perfect finish. The entire day was wonderful, and I was not homesick once.

Now it is December...though my mind knows that, it is difficult to get my body to believe it, as Ashley, Kelsey, and I sit here making Christmas cards in 90 degree weather. We went swimming this morning, I got a darker tan and more freckles, and I'm sweating as I type this in the open doorway, only twenty days from Christmas. Crazy. This week we have been singing Christmas Carols, listening to Christmas music, putting up Christmas decorations, and making Christmas cards. Just the same as I would be doing at home. I have always loved the holiday season, and I am so glad that celebrating it here is turning out to be such a fun experience.

So, though this is a bit late and a bit early; I figured since it was right in the middle, what better time to say: Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas from Haiti!

My firsts in Haiti...

Wednesday, November 25th, 2009 2:00 p.m.

First time living on a Caribbean island.
First time swimming a quarter of a mile out into the ocean.
First time being away from home for more than a month.
First time teaching on a beach, thirty feet from the ocean shore.
First time touching a jellyfish (once by accident and once on purpose).
First time seeing a live scorpion.
First time getting blisters from sunburn.
First time riding a mule up a mountain for four hours straight.
First time drinking fresh grapefruit juice.
First time speaking in front of a large group of people in Creole.
First time peeing on the ground behind a house.
First time cleaning/drying out a starfish.
First time killing a spider that was bigger than my fist.
First time eating/drinking:

- lambi (the creature that lives inside conch shells)
- goat
- fresh, raw avocado
- coffee

- kenep (a tiny fruit)
- fresh salt-water fish
- blé (cracked-wheat mush)
- cornmeal
- banana soup
First time seeing a live blow fish.

First time seeing a dead blowfish.
First time entering the Port-au-Prince airport and coming back out the same way.
First time seeing a rainbow over mountain tops.
First time attending a Haitian wedding.
First time riding on the back ledge of the truck (much to Dee’s chagrin).
First time viewing the Pleides, Orion, the Big Dipper, and Scorpio constellations all in the sky at the same time.
First time finishing a journal in less than three months.
First time waking up every morning with the sun.
First time having a beach for my backyard.
First bonfire on a beach.
First time roasting mini marshmallows on a wire coat hanger.

An account of my typical day in Haiti...

Friday, November 6th, 2009 4:00p.m.

A rooster crows somewhere in the distance. The rustling of straw brooms and bare feet on the pavement reaches my ears, and soon the clinking of pots and pans being washed and voices in rushed conversation join the sounds of the morning. I roll over, irritatedly swat at the persistent mosquitoes buzzing around my head, and pull the thin sheet over my face. Finally the mosquitoes win, and I open my eyes, pull back the cover and sit up. Though it is only 6a.m., the sun is already pretty high in the sky, and our room is filled with light. My room-mate is still asleep, so after getting dressed I seat myself on my bed with a Bible, a highlighter, a book, and a pencil to have my quiet time before the day begins.

Soon Kelsey peeks her adorable, grinning face in the doorway and we say “Good morning.” By now Crash is awake, and I make sure all my materials are in order for the day before venturing out with my mobile desk (the rolling suitcase containing all of our school books and supplies) down to our school “room.” After setting out the desks and my chair I head back upstairs to wait for breakfast. Everyone else is up and about: Simone is busy in the kitchen, Yoka and the boys are hurrying (as much as a person can hurry in Haiti) to finish their chores before they leave for school, Bioude is cleaning and watching Josiah, while Dee and Crash sit at the computers working on forms, e-mail replies, and internet updates, and Wilckly is already busy meeting with people.

I finally locate the keys and open up one of the many storage rooms to retrieve canned milk for Kelsey’s and my cereal. Finding clean bowls and spoons is another matter, but eventually we have all eaten (Ashley favors pate and spam sandwiches over Cheerios) and the girls and I troop over the wall, down the stairs and to our seaside classroom.

Class begins with a hymn, Bible reading, memory verse of the week, and a prayer, then we practice handwriting. After that come Arithmatic, and while Kelsey is coloring her number pages I drill Ashley with flash cards, trying to beat her fastest time of 28 seconds for 20 cards. Then Ashley finishes her lesson and Kelsey and I have story time. Next is Grammar/Spelling/Vocabulary for Ashley, Phonics/Reading for Kelsey, then Geography, History, Science or Spanish (depending on the day), Reading, and finally Art or Music (also depending on the day). After History we have decided we need a slight change of scenery, so we pack up the books and tote everything back upstairs for a short break and finishing the remaining subjects at the table.

By the time lessons are over the afternoon meal has been set out. Around 2p.m. we are all seated with our dishes of rice and beans (always), corn, carrots, fried chicken, and Coca-Cola. The dining room table also serves as the office, so when lunch is over, I simply clear my place nad scoot over to a computer. The internet is free, so I spend some time replying to e-mails and checking my blog before connecting with Ashley to make sure all her homework is done for the day. Then I grab a book, a pen, and my journal and carry a chair down to the beach to relax in the fresh air for a while.

Once my mind and body are refreshed I climb the stairs once again to see if Dee or Crash need help with anything. Josiah is awake from his nap, so I lift him out of the playpen and tote him around on my hip until he grows tired of that and we find a room where he can crawl around. Soon Kelsey joins us and we play on the floor, reading, singing, telling stories, and giggling at ‘Siah’s antics.

Soon someone comes to relieve me of the children and I spend the next portion of my afternoon in my room, grading and preparing for the next day’s lessons. Very quickly the light fades from the room, and by 5:30 the sun has left the sky, showering the horizon with pastel pinks and creams and brilliant streaks of orange and gold. I gravitate to the office, where by now everyone else has gathered until the generator is turned on. Before long, we once again have light and energy, and while everyone takes turns on the computers Crash pops in a movie which we all enjoy watching while munching on Dee’s delicious popcorn and listening to the faint crash of the waves on the nearby shore.

Around 8:00 the boys place chairs in a circle under the brightest light we have, computers are shut down and the TV is turned off, and we each find a seat for our evening devotional. We begin with a song, repeated in both Creole and English, then Wilckly speaks. I do my best to listen and pick out a few words here and there that I understand, and even manage to piece together a concept he is explaining. Kelsey is sitting in her Daddy’s lap, and I watch as she lets her eyes slowly close, lulled to sleep by the sound of his voice. What a precious way to fall asleep each night. The discussion over, Wilckly asks me to pray, and I ask, “In Creole or English? ‘Merci, Sègné’ is all I’ve got…” Everyone laughs, and I say the closing prayer – in English.

The chairs are put away, and I pack up my computer, only to be met by Ashley halfway to my room with “Can Yoka and I borrow your computer to watch a movie?” I hand over the coveted laptop, after reminding her that “We have school in the morning, so don’t stay up too late!” and step into my room to read and write before bed. The floor is swept and mopped, the trash can is emptied, and my bed is made. I quickly check the wave of false humility (an attitude I have to combat quite often in this country) that sweeps over me as I struggle once more to grow accustomed to this culture that focuses so much on class and rank. After reading, Crash and I have a lovely conversation about what has been on our minds recently and what we have been reading, and then we strike the matches to light our nightly ration of Plakatox and pop in our ipods to wind down until the generator is turned off. About twenty minutes later the lights go out, the hum of the machine is stilled, and we are left to fall asleep to the calming sounds of crickets, a slight breeze stirring the mango leaves, and the perpetually crashing ocean waves. Bon nwit!